Original Sin
by Parker Joe
Summary: One part ex-priest, one part ex-mobstress. Stir until shaken. GrAva smut
1. Chapter 1

1\. Emergency

With a final notation, Griffin closed the patient file and filed it at the nurse's station. His shift had started at four this morning, and it was now after six p.m. With any luck, he could at least get in a quick run and admire the sunset before collapsing into his bed.

"Nurse Johnson-"

The imposing nurse _hhmmp_ ed and gave him one of her perpetually stern looks. "I've been a nurse for twenty-five years. If you think I need you to repeat your instructions for Mrs. Kowalski a _third_ time, I'm going to be insulted."

"I just want to make sure-"

"-that I do my job?"

Her glare strongly suggested he reply in the negative. "Of course not."

"General Hospital provided patient care long before you came on the scene, and with any luck will continue to do so long after you and me are plaques on a wall." Epiphany watched his shoulders slump. She'd seen the same thing many times before. Doctors and nurses who escaped into their work to avoid other aspects of their own lives. The same dedication that made them good caregivers twisting them into knots. "Go home, Dr. Munro," she ordered gruffly.

"Good night, Nurse Johnson," he acquiesced, turning for the elevators. Elizabeth had warned him no one won an argument with Epiphany, and he'd just gotten a taste of that reality. She was still giving him a disgruntled stare down as he pressed the down button and waited for the elevator. Like she expected him to slink off down the hallway if she didn't keep an eye on him and make sure he left the floor.

A soft ding and whispery swoosh gave little warning before he was barrelled into, reflexively grabbing the offender before either of them nose-dived to the hard cement.

"Idiot!"

Harsh and harried, Griffin automatically dismissed the unkind assessment. People came to hospitals under duress. The child in the woman's arms whimpered, her eyes bright with tears. "What happened, sweetheart?" he said softly, brushing a dark lock gently behind a small ear.

"Get _out_ of my way!"

He felt the woman tense, ready to pull out of his grasp and be on her way. "I'm a doctor," he assured, noting a bloody dress and some kleenex in the child's palm.

"I need a _real_ doctor," the woman yelled out. "Not some glorified orderly! Where's Monica Quartermaine? Lucas Jones?"

 _Someone_ was used to throwing out names to get their way. "I doubt either-" He was startled to find a familiar face when his eyes rose.

"Griffin?" Ava was just as startled. Then relief rushed through her. "God, I'm sorry! A-A-Avery fell, and her hand is just-I think she might need stitches."

"Let me take a look." Gently, he pried open the child's hand, and peeked beneath the soaked wad of tissue. The jagged cut seemed fairly deep, and fresh blood oozed forth. "I think Mom's right, darling. Epiphany? Send a nurse to exam room three," he ordered, not caring that the nurse blew out another exasperated breath as he guided them down the hall.

"I-I blinked, and there she was on the sidewalk, crying, and blood-"

"Just a couple more minutes of being brave," Griffin interrupted, as much to reassure the child as to calm her mother. "You're going to need to sit real still-"

"Avery," Ava said shakily. "Her name is Avery, isn't it pumpkin?"

"Avery Pumpkin? That's an unusual name." Her mother laughed shakily.

"That's not my name!" the little girl piped up. "I'm Avery Katherine Jerome!"

"That is a big, beautiful name for a beautiful little girl," Griffin replied.

"I know."

The confident reply brought another shaky laugh as Ava shrugged her shoulders in apology and Avery joined in with the adults, even though she didn't quite know why.

"It's been quite a while since I've heard giggles in an exam room," Elizabeth Webber said, standing in the doorway.

"Should we let her in on the fun?" Griffin asked Avery.

"You remember Nurse Webber? You met her the night Mommy forgot you can't have strawberries," Ava added. The little girl shook her head no, then buried it in her mother's shoulder.

"She's the very best nurse," Griffin assured her. "And with her help, I'll have your hand taken care of in no time."

Avery visibly relaxed, and with calm efficiency, Griffin and Liz went to work. Ava watched as them alternate roles, one keeping Avery distracted while the other tended to her wound.

As Griffin started suturing, Liz grabbed her tablet, accessing Avery's patient file. "According to Dr. Elliot, Avery's shots are up to date."

"I assume so," Ava replied, not taking her eyes off Avery. "She's got a check up sometime next month."

"You can breathe. She's going to be fine," Liz assured her.

"It just happened so fast. One second we were waiting for the valet, and the next, she had tripped and sliced her hand on this grate in the garage. I honestly don't even know how."

Sympathetically, Liz squeezed Ava's hand. "I've got three boys-"

"Crap!" Ava swore under her breath, grabbing her purse. Swiping her phone, she gave the nurse an apologetic look. "It was- I was taking-Sonny, it's Ava," she blurted as soon as the call connected.

"Where. ARE. You. Ava?"

"Listen-"

"STOP. the. excuses. Where. is. MY. daughter?"

For the billionth time, Ava cursed the fact that arrogant sonofabitch was Avery's father. "Avery had a little accident, I'll be there in half an hour."

"You gonna show up here... _late_...with a band aid on some boo-boo? Or are you halfway to Canada, stealing my DAUGHTER?"

"Listen, you drunken jackass-"

"I'm CALLIN' the COPS, Ava! And then I'm CALLIN' my attorney and haulin' your ASS through family court. KISS Avery goodbye, because if I get my way, it's the last time you'll be doin' THAT. EVER."

Before she could spit out a retort, Nurse Webber had grabbed the phone from her hand.

"Sonny? Liz Webber. Sixth floor, exam room three. Avery's fine, but it's going to be at least half an hour before she's ready to be discharged." With the final word, she ended the call and handed Ava her phone back. "Been there. Maybe not as bad, but that tense. Wish I could tell you it gets better."

"Thanks," Ava said slowly slipping her phone back into her purse. "Now I know why Nikolas admired you."

"Sonny and I have never been besties. I don't think Avery heard anything, she's focused on Griffin."

"He's good with kids."

"He's got a great bedside manner," Liz agreed. "I'm going to hunt down some topical ointment, gauze, etc, so you or Sonny can change her bandages in the morning...and maybe a bunch of stickers for the bravest little patient I've seen this year. Butterflies or unicorns," she asked Avery with a smile.

"Either or," Ava said sternly, knowing the answer would be "both" if Avery could get her way.

"Ponies?" Avery asked, flashing a wide smile.

"I will try and find ponies," Liz promised as she left.

"Nurse Webber's right, you've been very brave," Ava assured her daughter. She watched as Griffin carefully wrapped Avery's hand.

"Now...you have to keep that dry. No making mudpies or running through puddles."

"I don't like mud."

"Ooo, I loved mud when I was your age. One day I came home covered from head to toe. My mother said it took three days to get me clean."

"That's a lot of baths."

"I think my mom was more upset that I tracked it all over the house before she got me into the tub."

"Sounds like Avery and glitter," Ava replied.

"No bath necessary," Griffin teased Avery, bopping her on the nose.

"You've never had to clean it up," Ava pointed out. "Any other instructions, Doctor?"

"Change the bandage daily. Watch for signs of infection. Redness, swelling, spiking a fever. We'll have Nurse Johnson schedule an appointment with your pediatrian in a week to monitor her progress."

The promised stickers arrived, and after a stop at the nurse's station, with a 'thank you' and a wave, they were gone. Griffin found himself whistling as he changed, grabbed the coat from his locker, and headed for the exit.

He was still whistling as he noticed the long, black car illegally parked in a loading zone beside where Sonny Corinthos was talking to Ava. It was clearly a tense conversation, Ava's hands clenched into fists at her side and Sonny jabbing his fingers into air.

Griff quickened his pace, just in time to catch Sonny mutter the word _bitch_ as he leaned in closer to Ava. "Mr. Corinthos," he interrupted.

Sonny took a step widening the distance from Ava. "Doc. I told you to call me Sonny," he reminded him, flashing a tense smile full of teeth.

"I met your daughter. She's lovely. Brave, too."

"No thanks to her," Sonny mumbled, nodding in Ava's direction.

"Did you have any questions or concerns? I'd be happy to answer them for you."

"No...no. Just here to pick up my daughter." He said pointedly. "So...you took care of Avery?"

Ava stewed. He had pulled up as she tried hailing a cab, scooped Avery out of her arms, made a show of kissing Avery's boo-boo before depositing her in the backseat with the nanny. Then grilled her out of Avery's earshot, trying to catch her in some lie. She smelled the bourbon on his breath, which she was sure was making him more paranoid and belligerent than normal. His threats and insinuations had turned darker, less about cops and court and more about shallow, unmarked graves.

"I did," Griffin acknowledged. That seemed to mollify Corinthos and descalate the situation.

"Good...good," Sonny mumbled. He gave Ava a hard glare. "Same time...next week." Then he held his hand out to Griffin. "Thanks, Doc."

Griff gave him a firm shake, but remained at Ava's side. Sonny seemed to expect him to leave and let them finish their conversation, if one interpreted what had been taking place as such. "Good night, Sonny," he said, taking Ava's elbow and guiding her a step back, clearing room for Sonny to open his car door and leave.

Sonny relented. "Yeah...night, Doc." To Ava, he said nothing.

Ava watched them leave, unable to catch another glimpse of Avery through the tinted windows. The old fear of never seeing her daughter again snaked through her, raising goose pimples in spite of the warm spring night.

"Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course," she answered automatically. His face seemed kinder, out from under the harsh hospital lighting. "We have to stop meeting like this."

Griffen smiled. "Can I escort you to your car?"

"I thought chivalry was dead." A blush actually rose to his cheeks, as if he weren't used to compliments. Maybe priests-slash-doctors didn't get many. "Actually, no," she declined with regret. "I came by cab. I couldn't drive and hold Avery at the same time."

"I'm surprised Sonny didn't take you home."

"I'm not," she replied acidly. The only lift he'd offer her was of the one-way variety.

"I'd be more than happy-"

"That won't be necessary. I'll catch a cab." As she raised her hand to catch the cabbie's attention, he surprised her with a high, shrill blast that would have felt right at home at rush hour in New York City. The cab sped toward them, and he opened the door for her.

"You're a man of hidden talents," she said with a hint of admiration.

"I suspect you're a lady with some as well."

The door clicked firmly closed as she settled into the back seat, and then he gave two sharp raps on the roof, and the cabbie pulled away from the curb. "Nine-seventy-nine Carlyle," she ordered.

For some reason, she could feel his eyes still on her. She looked back, and sure enough, he watched as she sped away.


	2. Chapter 2

2\. Honesty

A week passed, and then two, and between gentle but firm rebuffs from Anna, who complained she was an adult and capable of overseeing her own life, Griffin found himself thinking more and more about a little patient and her mother.

He managed to track Kiki down and made a subtle inquiry into Avery's health. She only knew what her mother had texted about the accident, and made an oblique reference to having heard from a brother that Avery was doing well.

So he told himself it was boredom that had him reconfiguring his daily run, and coincidence that the new route went past The Jerome Art Gallery. He saw her once, talking to a delivery man. The sun shimmered on her hair, deepening it to a magnificent honey-blonde. He had intended to casually stop in, but suddenly he felt foolish and continued on his way.

He found himself bumping into her in unexpected places-they went to the same dry cleaners on 5th, preferred Jasmine Garden's spring rolls over Noodle Buddha's, and had no use for flavored vodkas. The conversation never went deeper than "hi-hello-", small talk and assurances that Avery was fine, but he found himself looking forward to them anyway.

Until the day he found her in the park, sitting on the edge of the lake, feeding the ducks. Deciding he was tired anyway, he threw himself into the seat beside her, hoping to startle her. She did jump, but the tears in her eyes startled him more.

"I'm sorry, Ava. Could I help?"

"Got a cure for allergies?" she scoffed, defiantly leaving the tears run where they wanted. Her full lips twisted into a tight smile as she leaned forward and gave him a sideways glance. "Now I'm lying to priests." She didn't know why it bothered her-lies rarely did. "I'm upset and I came to feed the ducks because Avery loves feeding the ducks."

"That's as good a reason as any. Although, to be clear, I'm no longer a priest. But I've come to think of you as a friend."

"If that's true, you must be hard up."

Though self-deprecating, it was said with a tinge of humor. "If you would rather I left, I'll go. Your private-"

Ava shook her head. "It's nothing. Or nothing new anyway-Sonny pulled one of his subtle moves, jerking me around and reminding me of my "place". He _informed_ me that Carly has signed Avery up for riding lessons. _Therefore_ I can no longer have her on Wednesdays."

"Surely you can-"

Ava threw up her hand. " _Don't_ -for the love of God, _tell me_ to smile and take it."

"It's one day."

"It's not _one_ day. It's his soon-to-be EX-wife getting time with my daughter. It's disrupting _my_ time with _my_ daughter on her latest God-damned whim. What three year old needs riding lessons? It's Carly rubbing my nose in it, after I told her she was out of Avery's life! It's the fact I'm fed up with no one _ever_ being on my side!"

"I am," Griffin shot back.

"You're not going to tell me to suck it up, like my daughter Kiki?"

Griff grabbed her hand. "It's alright to feel angry."

"Well, _hallelujah_!" she blurted.

It came out so forcefully, he couldn't help but laugh, and in breaking the tension, Ava laughed too.

"Damn it, I'm still mad," she assured him, wiping away a fresh set of tears. "Take my advice, never have a child with someone you hate."

"At least you have a right. I have to watch Valentin Cassadine raise a child who'd been entrusted to me-for very good reasons." He gave her a brief rundown about Charlotte and briefly being a father. "I would give anything for Charlotte to be free of him."

"And that wacked-out bitch of a wife," Ava added under her breath. "I've had run ins with both of them-psychopaths of a feather, flock together." The look of horror that passed over his face made her heart break for him. "Look-Valentin's a bastard. Eventually, someone's going to catch up with him."

"I thought Anna could."

"Anna Devane?" Ava scoffed. "Valetin doesn't play by any rules. And Anna Devane's handcuffed by them."

"That's a bleak view."

"It's the reality of the world he lives in. I should know, I lived in it too." Ava watched that truth sink in by degrees. "Told you being friends with me sucked. Now you're depressed too."

Griffin blew out a sigh. "I think you simply voiced something I've been afraid to. I don't know why."

"Because we fight so hard for control."

In the silence, she finally realized her hand had been in his for a long time. It felt comfortable there, and she squeezed it reassuringly. Then his head dipped closer and he kissed her. The kiss was the slightest pressure on her lips-as if he was as surprised by it as she was. Tentatively he captured her upper lip, and then the lower. Her heart skipped a beat. But before it went any further, she pulled away, pressing a kiss against his cheek instead.

"Thanks for stopping," she said. Then she rose and walked away.

"_"

The kiss remained uppermost in his mind, as well as the ensuing brush-off. Nothing was clearer than a sisterly peck on the cheek and running for the exit. Resigned to offer an apology tomorrow, he decided to smother his disquiet in some BBQ from The Floating Rib.

Just as he opened the door to enter his apartment building, he looked up to see her in front of him, heading out.

"This is getting to be a habit," she quipped.

"How'd you know where I live?"

"I didn't," she told him, raising an eyebrow. "Kiki lives here."

Griffin knit his brow. "I just moved here about a month ago. I got sick of living in the Metro Court. This is-"

"-close to the hospital," they finished together.

"So Kiki just moved in?" Griff speculated.

"Kiki moved in with her father a couple of years ago," Ava explained.

"So, Franco lives here too? Great."

"Yes and no. Yes, he lives here. No, he's not her father."

"I remember him coming to see Kiki all the time when she was hospitalized."

"Franco and I-he could have been, and for a long time he thought of her as his daughter. She's treated him like one, at first to make up for my perceived ruining of his life."

"They say family is a choice."

Ava rolled her eyes. "I hate it, but less than I hated it before. Kiki's father Silas died nearly two years ago. He was a doctor, a very good one. I'm sure her compassion and desire to help come straight from him."

"And not from you?"

"You're good for my ego."

Griff cleared his throat. "About this afternoon-"

Ava shrugged. "It was a moment. No need to make more of it."

The woman certainly knew how to crush him with clear nonchalance. "Okay," he replied.

"Okay." Ava noticed the take out bag dangling from his hand. "I'll stop impeding your dinner," she said, and moved aside.

"Aren't you here to see Kiki?"

"I was, but she got called in to work. Not that she remembered to text me," she added, dangling a take out bag of her own to him. "Sesame chicken, beef and broccoli, steamed dumplings from Jasmine Garden."

"Ribs. The Floating Rib."

"I knew I smelled that sauce," Ava said. "Maybe tomorrow."

"Why wait? For some reason, I ordered a full slab, plenty for two. You bought me drinks. I've bought dinner."

"I've got enough here to feed three," she reminded him, swinging her bag.

"Then I suggest a trade."

Ava thought and then relented. If you couldn't share a meal with a priest, who could you share a meal with? "Lead on." A boyish smile lit up his face. She followed him to the elevator, and it rose slowly to the top floor. His loft was at the end of the hall, a sparsely furnished large room, segmented by use. A couch, tv and desk anchored the living area, a stove and refrigerator suggested a kitchen, and a screen presumably offered the privacy of a bedroom.

"I would lie, but this is just about everything I own," he admitted.

"The life of a nomad?"

While they made plates and settled on the couch to eat, he gave her a brief sketch of his life. Never knowing his father, moving every few years with his mother the surgeon. Embracing theology when his mother had been diagnosed with cancer, feeling conflicted after his mother's death and rediscovering his commitment to medicine.

"I know I'm grateful. For treating Kiki," Ava added quickly.

There was a husky note in her voice that was going to create an embarrassing situation for him if he allowed himself to dwell on it. "Can I get you a beer?" he offered, just to give himself a reprieve. "I don't have any wine, and I'm out of vodka."

That was just as well, Ava thought to herself. "Sure."

"What brought you to Port Charles?" he asked, handing the beer to her over her shoulder before he rounded the couch and resumed his seat.

"Money. It's a long story, but that's what it boils down to. I wanted what I was owed."

"By Sonny?"

"Him," Ava agreed. "But also my father, and Julian. I barely knew my father before he died. I knew _of_ him. Growing up in New York City, he was a big deal. Power. Wealth. Respect. But he let it slip away and then he died. I thought if I could reclaim what was his, I would feel like I had claimed my birthright."

"You have your daughters."

"Barely," Ava scoffed. "You wouldn't know it, but Kiki and I were so close when she was growing up. She was all I really had. It makes not having Avery with me hurt all the more."

"Yet you have her."

"In spite of everything." While they talked, Ava had admired a laundry list of features, the penetrating green eyes, sinfully black hair, a graceful, athletic body that oozed energy. "It's getting late," she babbled suddenly. "I have an early morning."

"I-okay," Griffin replied, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. "Let me pack up-"

"Keep it," Ava shook her head, searching for her purse. Griffen found it by the food, and held it out to her. They didn't physically touch, but an electric jolt jumped between them. "Thank you," she said nervously.

"I'm sorry," he said before closing the distance and kissing her. It was more confident than the afternoon's offering. His lips slid over hers, testing their fullness, exploring the shape with his tongue. His hand found the curve of her back, resting their lightly while he waited for a response.

It came with a cautious arm wrapping around his neck, her lips parting as she eased to his touch. Whatever uncertainty had caused tension before melted away, replaced with a sharper, underlying question.

The best thing about the loft was the lack of space. When her knees started to buckle from the onslaught of breathless kisses, within a step they found support in the door, where he could pin her and angle his mouth for a deeper exploration of her mouth.

When Ava wanted to assume control, it was barely three steps to the couch, where he stretched out beneath her, her fingers making quick work of the buttons keeping her fingertips from his taunt skin. She murmured approvingly as she traced the muscle and bone that contoured his body.

And when it was clear their mutual desires coalesced in agreement, it required five steps as they shed what clothes remained to land on the bed. His full weight on top of her, her thighs gripped his hips as they rocked together in anticipation.

His tongue pistoned deeply into her mouth one last time before pulling free and sliding over her cheek to her ear. "Just...one...last...thing-" he assured her breathlessly as he awkwardly flung an arm out.

"Virgin?"

"Condom," he replied, finally finding the nightstand drawer.

It was agony as he fumbled with it, his hands grazing so intimately between them, ratcheting the anticipation to bone-melting heights. Properly sheathed, Ava rose to the first thrust, holding her breath slightly as the engorged length sank inside her. Her cheeks burned hotly, the craving for more overwhelming her body.

Griff gritted his teeth-dealing with sensations he'd long denied himself, either out of devotion or shame. Finding himself free from both, he rocked shallowly at first, letting his tongue circle her taut nipples. As her moans rose, his actions became swifter, deeper, and finally fulfilling, as both their bodies shook with a profound force leaving them depleted and sated.

"_"

The stars had just disappeared in the sky when Ava gently lifted the possessive arm at her waist, quickly dressed and quietly slipped out of the loft. The night's events swirled in her muddled brain, and if she let it, they could spiral out of control.

The elevator doors swished closed, and she held her breath, her escape almost complete. With any luck, Griffin wouldn't wake for hours. Time enough to clear her head, anyway.

Unexpectedly, the doors opened on the fourth floor, and her lips pursed in recognition. She refused to say anything, but she knew she wouldn't even be able to count to five before-

"Av-ah." Franco drew out the syllables with a distinct relish. "Funny meeting you here-at this time of the morning," he said, mockingly eying his wristwatch.

"Shut up."

Letting out a glee-filled giggle, Franco sharpened his needles. "Y'know," he started, sidling closer to her, "I remember a walk of shame. Although by the time you got out of my door, it was at least three in the afternoon. And your skirt was on backwards."

"Jackass. I only went down to the bagel store and back-because you were _starving_ -with my skirt that way."

"I remember it was a very short skirt," he smiled. "Which makes me wonder-where are you departing from? There's only two floors above us. Eight apartments on each. Sixteen possibilities. Now, there's eight couples, four happily married, two unhappily, and two who can't make up their minds. Three lesbian couples-none of them your type. Three single ladies and two single men. Now, Mr. Oakie is a swell guy-but he's 79. Not that he wouldn't be up for your charms. Our last contestant-"

"Don't you have some turpentine you could choke on?"

"-is a charming fellow. _Dreamy_ eyes. _Magnificent_ cheekbones. _Solid_ cross to bear-"

"Ugh," Ava groaned.

"You _'frocked_ the priest. _'Frock_ him good? I never would have guessed _'frocking_ a priest would have held any appeal for you. Not in a _million_ years."

Ava rolled her eyes. "Are you through? Y'know, I don't care about who you slept with. Maneater Carly, or Whackadoodle Nina, or the Nice-y Nice Nurse Liz."

"Oh, I'm thrilled. Confused, but thrilled. Doctor Naughty Pants pays a little too much attention to Liz."

"You and Carly or Nina...crazy is as crazy does. But does Liz really understand what a seething, jealous asshole you are?"

Her insults were like blood in the water, encouraging. "Did he give a Sermon on the Mount? Has he already left for confession? I'd love to sit in on that..."

Fed up, Ava kicked his shin with the sharp point of her shoe. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic!" Franco grimaced, grabbing his leg. "Here's how I see this playing out. Either he's gifted enough to keep you interested, or he's not and I can _accidently_ let that slip to Liz. Either way, I win."

He stared at her with barely concealed impatience. "You can't be expecting me to answer that."

"Why not?" he demanded. "It affects my life."

"What did I do to deserve this?" Ava mumbled under her breath.

"Shouldn't that be Who? Or is it-?"

Before he could add "whom", Ava's knee had savagely connected with his groin. Leaving him doubled over as the elevator door opened.


	3. Chapter 3

3\. Resolution

Having spent a long day at the gallery, Ava was more than ready to kick off her shoes and take refuge in her apartment. Not that she'd accomplished much of anything. Work on her new showing had ground to a halt because she couldn't concentrate, she'd blown off two important customers because she didn't feel like dealing with the drama, and she'd lost the customs paperwork for her latest acquisitions.

After all those disasters, what was uppermost in her mind? The fact she'd had her assistant lie to Griffin and tell him she'd unexpectedly gone to the City that morning.

She was a smart, independent and pragmatic woman. This was not how a smart, independent and pragmatic woman acted. Although if she were honest with herself, her affairs rarely left her feeling any of those qualities.

A knock came from the door. Not expecting anyone, she removed the gun from her gun safe and silently approached the door. Peeping through the spyhole, she saw Griffin and froze. She really didn't want to have this confrontation tonight, or any other.

"I know you're in there," he called out. "I know you didn't go to New York."

Busted, she let out a lengthy sigh and opened the door.

"Dessert," he sniped, shoving a small bag into her chest. "Ice cream. Now, would you like to tell me why you snuck out of bed this morning and then had your assistant lie?"

"Come right in," Ava said sarcastically. "And by all means, tell my neighbors everything that's not their business," she added as she closed the door.

"Did you really think I didn't know a brush off when I heard it?"

"Common confessional discussion?"

"Do I look like an idiot to you?"

"I needed some time to process this. I wasn't expecting to end up in bed with you."

His anger softened a bit. "I didn't intend that either. I just-"

"Had a drawer full of condoms?"

"I'm a doctor. Who works at a free clinic. Where a lot of people come to discuss sexual responsibility."

"Okay," Ava conceded. "I just didn't think-"

"I was your type?"

"No-you're exactly my type. Emotionally unavailable."

"What's _that_ supposed to mean?" Griff asked as evenly as he could.

Ava snorted. _"Hello,_ _I'm a_ _priest,"_ is usually the definition of unavailable."

"I don't introduce myself that way."

"But it always manages to work itself into the conversation, doesn't it? Deliberately or subconsciously, it's a signal."

"I can't deny my past. But I thought you understood what it was like to not want to be defined by it anymore."

"Then there's Anna." Griffin narrowed his eyes, not liking this direction. "There's something a little vibe-y about the way you talk about her."

"She was _married_ to my father," he protested. "She welcomed me to Port Charles. She's the only real connection to my father I have. It's almost like we're family."

"Ever hear of the Oedipal complex?" Ava stopped his next protest before it crossed his lips. "How many cities have you lived in?"

"What does that have to do with us?"

"There isn't an us," Ava hissed as her heart sank just a little. "You live like a frat boy in a tiny studio. There's nothing permanent in your life. You've got no life outside the hospital. No friends. I recognize loneliness when I see it, Griffin."

"So, according to you, you're just the first woman I've come across?"

"Yes."

"It didn't occur to you I could feel a connection with a beautiful, intelligent, desirable woman? That I wanted to change my life? Look, I've been in limbo. Too long. But I found a purpose when Charlotte entered my life. Though it was hardly long enough for me to blink, I saw myself in an entirely new light."

"That's wonderful. My daughters have literally saved my life. Doesn't mean last night was anything more than one night. You should be relieved. My affairs are disasters."

"Exaggerate-"

"Oh, that's no exaggeration. Serial killer, a rival mob boss, his undiagnosed bipolar son. Two kind men, nice enough to save my life died violently."

In her bare feet, she came up to his shoulders, just the right height to kiss without feeling towered over. Flashes of the night before flew through her mind, a jumble of thoughts and images she had yet to untangle. He was close enough to touch, and she had never been good at denying temptation. "Please go," she said quietly, keeping her hands at her sides.

"All that matters to me-you're the first woman to see me. Griffin, the man. Not Father. Doctor. Just a man."

It didn't surprise her when he leaned in to kiss her. He was not a man skilled in deception, and she could read the intent in his clear, green eyes. The unexpected was the tenderness. Most men she'd know would've had their pride insulted or not cared she hadn't been around in the morning. And after arguing, aggressive and dominating. Or cold and ruthless.

His kiss was light and teasing. Daring her to deny the stirring desire it generated. And when she finally met his tongue, he retreated, making her come to him. Whatever icy resistance she had built during the day melted under his seduction.

She wanted to feel his skin on hers-teasing her aching nipples, brushing low on her belly, finding the soft underside of her knee as he stroked her thighs. Instead, they remained on her hips, leaving the rest of her body jealous.

Her hands explored him. The breadth of his shoulders and stubble along his chin. The flat nipples, sinewy muscle, and sleek definition of his torso. "Touch me," he whispered when her hand stopped at the belt line. He sank his teeth into her neck when her hand glided between the material and cradled his rapidly growing erection.

Her apartment lacked the immediacy of Griffin's, but the tortured journey to her bedroom left desire coiled tightly, ready to burst. Silk, lace, cotton and denim piled on the carpet before Ava found herself straddling him, her hand wrapped around his impressive and engorged shaft. Griff murmured approval as she pumped slowly up and down the length, brushing the head with her thumb. Ava felt the tension build, his hands gripping her tightly as his mouth closed over nipple, teeth grazing against the hardness before replacing it with his tongue.

The heat grew low in her belly, throbbing and gnawing for relief. Cheeks flushed, Ava guided the smooth head of his cock between her thighs, then rose and sank down the shaft as he watched.

She rode him, hips thrusting, lush breasts swaying, wet heat tight around his cock. When her tongue came out to wet her lips, he felt himself grow harder still, as impossible as that seemed. Ava gave him a wicked grin, knowing every movement, every action was like gas on a fire. They fused together, bucking and rolling in rhythm, energy and friction building. Griff sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist, letting her grind hotly against him. Sweat glistened on their naked flesh, nerves stretched, muscles worked hard until the first sputterings of orgasm rippled through them. Urgency clenched them together, blotting out weakness and exhaustion. He licked at sweat on her neck, felt her breasts mound against his chest. She ran her fingers through his hair, kissing him, ignoring the way her lungs already burned for oxygen and plunging her tongue inside his mouth.

Feverishly, he grabbed her ass, knowing he couldn't last much longer. Ava seemed to sense it too, tearing her mouth away to take longer and deeper thrusts, spiraling along the crest and then letting go, shaking as he spilled and spasmed inside her.

"_"

"You weren't kidding when you called your kitchen a desert," Griffin chided much later. "The ice cream is soup." Seeing her at the window, standing, silohuetted in the moonlight, he could feel desire starting again in his belly. Naked, he came up behind her, sliding a martini glass into her hand. "But I did find three kinds of stuffed olives. And a susipious bottle of cocktail onions, which may or may not be trying to infiltrate your fridge."

"Those are only for dire emergencies," Ava assured him, "Snowpocolypse. An olive embargo. A visit from my lawyer." His hand drifted across her stomach, brushing open the loosely tied robe to rest against bare flesh. They were very skilled, those hands, and the thought of them drifting between her thighs was almost as distracting as the way his tongue brushed the tip of her ear lobe and his warm breath fluttered against her neck.

Ava refused to use the word revelation, but whatever this was, it was shockingly powerful and unique to her.

"Did you really think I was a virgin?"

Smiling at the incredulous note in his question, Ava shrugged. "I misunderstood some of the finer points in Lulu's story. But in my defense, she talks in circles."

"I was also a teenage boy," he chuckled, taking a sip from her oversized martini glass.

"Who also learned to make a decent martini?"

"Not until college."

"Martini college? Time well spent." The martini was ice-cold sliding down her throat, the rest of her body was smoldering thanks to his deft manipulation of his skin on hers. One hand splayed low on her stomach, just hovering in anticipation, while his lips trailed kisses along her neck and shoulders. As her knees grew weak, she let the glass fall harmlessly to the carpet, leaning into his body. And the weaker she felt, the harder he did. His shaft was rigid and unyielding against her ass. Ava arched her back, earning a sharp hiss as friction trapped, stroked and caressed the entire length.

The foreplay took on a renewed urgency, and Griffin slipped his hand over the apex of her thighs, slipping through the slick folds to tease the pulsating bud. Her body stilled for a long moment, absorbing, savoring the sweet friction from his fingers and anticipating when he would slide inside her, and she could give that pleasure back to him.

Griffin watched the pale outline of her face in the window. Her eyes closed as he swirled his thumb in the moist heat. The power he felt made him bolder, and he slide one finger, and then another swiftly into her body. The soft moan that escaped made him ache. Throb. Want.

She felt his hungers shift, as clearly as if he'd announced his intent. Her palm flattened against the window, as he nudged her thighs wider and buried his arousal with one deep thrust.

The thrill of the moment was a stepping off point-every ragged breath, bead of sweat and thrust rippling through trembling limbs. Ripples grew stronger, deeper, more intense. The rise was hard and fast, a spiral of desire that blotted out the rest of the world. They pushed, over, through, off the invisible edge...and fell, gloriously exhausted.

There were sweet whispered words and the reassuring safety of his arms as she drifted between realms. And he was still there in the morning when the sun peaked through her window.

Ava stirred, finding Griffin crowded next to her, his head on her pillow. He was a puzzle-from his inky eyelashes and full lips to his cute ass. Or maybe he only seemed that way to her because he didn't have an agenda. That was a rare thing in her world.

Her last thoughts snuggling against the heat of his body were whether to invest in more top shelf vodka, or adding a well aged Scotch to her bar. And that Nurse Webber had been correct. He had a hell of a bedside manner.


End file.
